Eyeless Jack: The Extended Version
by goldenquilled
Summary: Hello, my name is Mitch, and by the time anybody bothers to read this, I will be dead. I'm taking my remaining time to write out the events of my last few days, in hopes that the information can someday be used to finally end this nightmare. Please, do not let my last moments be a waste. Eyeless Jack must be stopped, no matter what the cost.
1. Roadkill

Part One: Roadkill

**A/N: The original story of Eyeless Jack was written by Azelf5000. I do not claim ownership of this story, and this retelling was not meant to be an overall enhancement or a means to insult the original. This is just a fun little writing exercise for me, and I thought I'd might as well share it. Enjoy, and happy Halloween!**

I don't know how long the shadows have reached for me. I never thought I would be one to tremble from the night's soft creaks and moans, or run from every rustle of leaves as the wind glances past. Things started out so simple, so sickeningly simple. Now, though it has been long since that last true encounter, I fear my time may be growing short. He watches me with hollow eyes as I sleep, as I wake, as I breathe. I know he is real. I know he is waiting.

The trees outside my window beckon me to join them, to become lost in them, to become lost for him. I hope that if, god forbid, anyone finds themselves staring at the same hell I do, this message can help in some way. I wish I could do more, but I know that he is still here, outside my window, just out of my field of vision. My time is nearing the end, and I know that, by the time anyone cares to read this, I will be dead.

But perhaps I should start from the beginning. Back when things were so, so simple.

"Are you seriously doing this right now?"

I heard a heavy sigh come from behind me, though I knew he was still smiling. I refused to turn around and acknowledge him, knowing I would only receive more of his playful scorn, and instead looked down at my camera as I adjusted it accordingly. I knew a good picture when I saw one, and I wasn't about to just let him pass right by it.

"You know you're gonna drive down this road every day, right? It's literally the only way into town," he whined as I held the camera up to my face and began snapping pictures of the thick forest that threatened to swallow us. I made sure not to include any traces of the beaten road we drove on, trying to make it seem as untouched by man as it was meant to be. With the speckled grey clouds looming up above and the slight fog that cut through the trees, this place seemed to encapsulate the atmosphere that every half-decent horror film strives to achieve.

"I fail to see your point, Edwin," I muttered, feigning disinterest in what he was saying. I was more than grateful that my back was turned to him, or else he would have definitely seen a ghost of a smile trying to form on my face. Being the younger of the two of us, it was my duty to annoy him at any opportunity, and I think I was living up to my duties at that moment. Even if neither of us were actually mad at the other, I doubted my brother was appreciating our unexpected pit stop.

I could almost hear his eyes rolling in their sockets. "You'll be seeing this place all the time. Taking a picture is absolutely pointless!" I took one last picture before turning my body around around to face him. Edwin was leaning against his beaten car nonchalantly, holding his head in his hand. Like I expected, his face held a small smirk, betraying his words completely.

I grinned back at him cheekily. "You're just mad that I made you pull over, aren't you?" I teased. He shot me a look that seemed both icy and amused, obviously unable to deny my statement. It seemed that I had won this argument, or at least for the time being. I widened my smile, just to make sure he knew I only kidded.

Edwin only chuckled and rolled his eyes once more as he strolled back to the drivers seat. I quickly climbed in beside him, setting my camera aside. I never left it too far away from me, always ready for that million dollar shot. Having it with me also made the trip less boring, and gave me and my brother a petty conflict to help ease the discomfort.

You could claim that I was acting immature, that I should have shown my elder brother more respect after all he'd offered to me. But after going nearly a decade without properly interacting, I needed some way to break the ice. We'd been children back then, so it makes sense that we would still act like children years later. People love familiarity, I have learned in recent times.

The car started up again, and we continued moving steadily. "If you ask me to pull over one more time, I swear I'll punch you in the face," Edwin lied. I looked out the window, watching as we bypassed an unlimited amount of forest scenery. All of it picturesque, the gnarled branches reaching out from the fog to beckon me nearer, but I knew my limits.

"Not if I punch you first," I threatened, also lying. Truth be told, I doubted we ever had a real fight before, even as children. Most likely due to our large age gap, but I was still proud of our ability to poke harmless fun at one another even after so many years. It was not something I could accomplish with many others from my past.

Edwin smirked. "I'd like to see you try," he commented, glancing away from the road. Not very comforting, but he must have drove that path many times before, so I said nothing, focusing on his words instead.

And in response to his words, I crossed my arms snappily. "What's that supposed to mean?" I whined in mock offence. Of course, I knew exactly what he meant. All my life I had existed inside a thin, scrawny body due to my lack of real physical activity. I would never hold my own in a real fight with him, who took his health into much closer consideration. Of course, I am paying for this now. I doubt I can survive long with weapons alone, especially against that thing. My luck cannot be tested much more, but I know it will be nonetheless.

"Nothing," his words stumbled out hurriedly, though I am sure he knew the line had been far from crossed. I responded by turning my back to him, or at least as much as I could while fastened to the passenger seat. Pretending to be too offended to look him in the eye, I stared out the freckled window where the scenery blurred past us. Going so fast, yet the world seemed all the same.

Being engrossed as I was in my vaudeville-worthy performance, I paid little notice to the actual scenery. Which is why, though not at all a commendable excuse, I nearly overlooked that first key to the unearthly puzzle. Though I suppose it didn't matter in the end, as none of it really did, save for the struggle that now wears me to the bone.

There was something on the side of the road.

No, not quite on the side of the road. It was closer to the edge of the forest, though poking out enough for it to be barely noticeable. Whatever it was, there was a lot of it, since it left a trail leading from the actual road to the edge of the trees. It was gone to fast for me to catch a good look at it, but there was something about it that made my stomach churn. If I had to guess, it was probably the fact that it seemed to be dragged from the road to the grass, but by what, I could only tremble at the thought of knowing.

"Did you see that?" I muttered softly, my voice becoming weaker. Something about what I saw, although unidentified, captured the attention of every part of my consciousness. It nagged at me, tugging at the back of my head like a sudden unreachable itch.

Still entranced by our foolish argument, Edwin sighed heavily. "Mitch, I swear to god, I-"

"No," I interrupted, trying to convey my seriousness. "No, I seriously saw something. On the side of the road." I glanced out the window again, scanning the edge of the forest for anything that resembled what I had seen before. Nothing. Just fallen leaves and jutting tree roots.

Edwin's brows furrowed slightly in thought, now seeming to hear the unease in my voice. "What was it?" he asked me. He sounded more curious than alarmed, to my annoyance, but at least I now had his attention.

I shrugged my shoulders dispiritedly. "I don't know..." I admitted. A small trickle of embarrassment began to surface, now realizing how insignificant this all was. "It looked like it'd been dragged from the road." I tried save myself, to make this tiny thing in a ditch seem worth his acknowledgement, but at this point I already couldn't convince myself.

He didn't skip a beat to reply. "It was probably roadkill or something. Got carried away by a coyote," he told me dismissively, his voice distant. I could hear his investment slowly waning, his thoughts drifting away for reality. I couldn't blame him.

"Yeah, you're probably right..." I trailed off, regretting ever bringing anything up. I tried to let it go, to just enjoy the rest of the trip with my brother, but I didn't. I couldn't. The thought lingered in the back of my mind, lurking like a restless spirit in the dark. Now, I realize that I had chosen to ignore my first warning, my first excuse to escape and live my simple life. For what lied on the side of the road was my own fate.

We spent the rest of the car ride in silence.


	2. Thump

Part Two: Thump

It did not take much longer for us to reach our destination, but by the time we did, the sun had already set, hiding behind a sea of twisting trees. The forest seemed to transform instantly, the air turning still and chilly. The branches that once beckoned me nearer now tried to usher me far away. I wonder, sometimes, whether they were trying to protect me from the monster within, or whether it was their futile attempt to cast it away. Either way, I ignored them, following my brother inside his small home.

The inside seemed cozy, yet comfortable. It was easy to tell that he lived in solitude, yet he made an effort to keep it presentable, perhaps only for me. He led me down towards the end of a short hallway, opening the final door wide. Inside was a small bedroom, bare of any decor. A small bed with plain sheets pushed towards the wall, an unstable nightstand placed beside it, and thin white curtains covering a window overlooking the fog-filled forest. The rest of the room was empty, waiting to be filled with whatever I would let myself bring along with me.

"Sorry it's so small," Edwin apologized, standing beside me in the wooden doorway, "It was the only spare room in the house, except for the attic. But I didn't think you'd want to stay in there." His warm brown eyes tilted in sadness, legitimately sorry for the living conditions he was gifting me.

I responded with a reassuring smile. "No, it's perfect," I told him. And really, it was, at least for me. "I never knew what to do with all that space at my old house anyways." My mind flickered back to my old home in the city, a several hours drive away from my brother's little lodge in the forest. When I had first bought it with my then long-term girlfriend, it seemed perfect for the two of us together. Big enough for two people, and just within our price range. But of course, it was not meant to last. When she left, she took most of the furniture and those cute little wall accents filled with empty motivational words. I never thought we were the kind of couple to fill their home with useless junk, but it turns out that it doesn't actually take much to transform a building into a ghost house. I still remember waking up that first morning, alone, and seeing how bare and naked the house seemed, and wondering how I was going to keep it. As it turns out, I wouldn't. That was when Edwin stepped in.

He smiled back at me, his eyes still the same. "You don't have to lie to me, you know," he said, though his voice was still cheerful. And before I could respond in any way, he turned around, back the way we came from. I followed him, saying nothing in return. Even now, as an adult who had been surviving on his own for many years, he was still just as stubborn as I remembered. I knew that, if he truly thought something, there was nothing that could convince him otherwise. I suppose that's something we had in common. People always tell me that I'm wrong, that it's all in my head, but I know better.

The two of us headed back outside, where the fog was thickening like a wispy soup, dead branches and mounds of disturbed soil poking out of the murky broth. Edwin dug the keys out of the pockets of his dirty jeans and opened up the trunk of his beaten car. Inside were several boxes, all filled with the few possessions I bothered keeping. Without skipping a beat, the two of us started grabbing the boxes, one for each of us, and started bringing them to my new bedroom.

It was short work, and I could have easily done it by myself, especially since I made sure to pack lightly. But still, he didn't hesitate to help me. That's the sort of person he was, even when we were children. He was always a bit of an introvert, hence why he probably decided to live in the middle of the woods in the first place, but he was always putting other people before himself. He never asked for anything in return, even when there was something he needed. It was no secret at all that this was why he decided to pursue the medical profession. Me? I never had the stomach for it, to be honest.

I say this because I don't think a lot of people liked Edwin. No, no, they didn't dislike him, they were just... wary of him. He was an introvert, even more so than myself. I guess that made people uncomfortable. But he would never do anything to hurt someone, and was truly a selfless and loyal human being once you got to know him. But nobody appreciated him, they just took him for granted. I guess that's life, but that doesn't make it any less sickening.

I don't know why I'm divulging this information. I suppose, like I said before, people love familiarity, and I need it now more than ever. I swear I heard it scratching at the window just a moment ago. I have boarded myself inside the house, but there's no way that thing is a fool. An abomination like him can't just stay hidden without at least human level intelligence, or possibly even more. I don't know why, but I think I would rather him be a mindless animal instead.

When all the boxes had finally been hastily dropped in my tiny bedroom, I looked down at my wristwatch. It was already past ten o'clock at night. Funny how sneaky time can be, no matter what circumstances you're living in. It seemed like only minutes prior I had been up at three in the morning, rushing to have all my things packed by the time Edwin picked me up. I am not exactly the wisest of men, or at least when it comes to time management. I will fully admit that I am lazy, that I spend too much precious time doing nothing of importance. How I've survived as long as I have, both against that thing outside and in general, is beyond me. Divine decree, perhaps, or maybe just a drawn out streak of luck.

Now knowing the exact time, and more importantly, how long I had been awake for, my body let out an intense yawn against my will. As if an internal switch had been flicked off inside of me, my eyelids began to droop slightly. Despite the light above us being turned off, the room was dark – no, wait, that's not it. It was serene. Calm and quiet, save for the occasional call of wild animals from outside, singing each other into an uneasy sleep.

Beside me, I saw Edwin yawn as well, just as exaggerated as my own. He glanced down at his own watch, and his eyes widened just a bit. "Wow, it's ten already?" he asked rhetorically, but I nodded my head nonetheless, purely so I could feel like I made a contribution. "Shit, I have work in the morning. Better get some sleep soon, or they're gonna have a living zombie for a doctor," he joked.

I chuckled slightly. He didn't really sound at all concerned. I doubt he would actually let himself stay up any later than he had to. When you love your job as much as he did, you'll do whatever it takes to keep it. That's what I picked up from him, anyways. As a wannabe freelance photographer, I never had to worry about things like that. For me, it's always finding the work that always kills me.

A noise came from outside the window.

I froze. "Did you hear that?" I whispered quietly to my brother. The room suddenly grew quiet.

Edwin shook his head. "No. What was it?" he asked, an eyebrow arched slightly upwards. In my head, I tried to identify the slight, barely audible sound, but ultimately failed. I shrugged my shoulders in defeat.

"I don't know," I admitted, "It sounded sort of like a _thump. _It came from outside, I think, right by the window." I glanced to the aforementioned window, spying the bleary silhouettes of the gnarled trees, partially obstructed by the thin white curtains. I saw nothing, but at that point it was difficult to see much of anything outdoors.

Putting his hand up to his chin, Edwin thought for a brief moment. "Probably just some raccoons or something. They never seem to figure out where I hide the garbage can." A reasonable assumption. So reasonable that anyone in their right mind would gladly accept it. But for some reason, it just didn't sit right with me. Living in the city, I never had any serious encounters with wildlife. But I just... I had this feeling. Like I knew that whatever I heard had not been caused by a simple raccoon. I wish I knew how I knew. Again, either destiny or luck was on my side, in an odd sort of way.

I decided to let it go, or at least try to. Edwin and I said our goodnights, briefly instructing each other on proper bedbug procedure, and finally separated. Letting out an impressive yawn, I decided that it would be best to follow my brother's lead and go to sleep. Carefully, I navigated around the cramped field of cardboard boxes, making my way to my clothing. Quickly, I changed out of my clothes and into a random pair of of sweats and a t shirt; it was too cold to wear any less. Then, I briefly studied the tiny room, installing every object's location into my mind. I would need to, especially in such unfamiliar surroundings.

Then, I turned off the only light, and dashed towards the bed. I found the soft covers and nestled myself within, covering my entire body like a human chrysalis. I snuggled in tightly, by back facing the window to the outdoors, where mysterious objects laid still by the road, unidentified creatures made unidentified noises, and the fog was thick enough to hide anything that desired staying hidden.

A child. That's what I am. A child wearing a grown man's skin.

It had to be stress. Or maybe nervousness. Or maybe I just wasn't as comfortable with living in the middle of nowhere as I thought I was. Either way, I was acting more than a little paranoid as of late, and I'm sure both me and Edwin had noticed. This wasn't normal, I assure you. Of course, I have since considered the possibility of a strange sixth sense, something that never crossed my mind once back then. But I guess it doesn't really matter how I knew anymore, does it?

I'll warn you right now, this is where my story gets a bit harder to recount. Words cannot describe how little I wish to re experience these events, especially during what is probably my last few moments alive. But I know I need to. There have been many before me, and many afterwards, and I know that someday, someone might be able to use this to help end this nightmare for good. God knows I can't do it, I'm not strong enough, but this thing can be killed. I can feel it. He's just waiting for a chance to die, for this whole curse to be lifted.

If there's any humanity left in him, I know he'll be happy to finally die.


	3. Scratch

Part Three: Scratch

My rest had been short that night.

I woke up with a start, my eyes shooting open. The room was nearly pitch black, the only source of light coming from the window behind me. The shadows were long, lengthening like snaking tendrils. I was still under my blankets, though their once comforting embrace was now strangling me.

I knew exactly what had woke me.

My eyes darted around the room looking for anything that hadn't been there earlier. All I could see was the barely visible outline of packed boxes. Everything else was either behind me, or hidden in protective darkness. My heartbeat sped.

There had been a noise. Inside the room.

I didn't want to move. I couldn't. There was something behind me, watching me, just waiting for me to flinch. I was frozen, paralysed. My eyes, widened and darting, were only beginning to adjust to the pitch black. Still, I saw nothing.

I needed to move. I couldn't just lie there. That was what it wanted. Whatever 'it' was, I did not know, and did not want to find out. But it was there. I could feel its gaze on me, boring into my soul, preparing itself. I had to run. I had to move. I had to fight. Anything.

I unravelled myself from my sarcophagus of blankets, and stood.

Nothing but boxes. Boxes and shadows. I held my breath, clenching my sweaty hands into fists. Then, slowly, I spun myself around.

Nothing.

I surveyed the other side of the room closely, studying anything unobstructed by darkness. The only thing I could clearly see was the opened window that lead to the foggy forest, white curtains lifting gently in the slight breeze.

I was... alone?

I thought for sure that there was something – no, some_one –_ in my bedroom. I could sense it. I could practically feel the other person's breath on my exposed neck. I spun myself around once again, gathering a full view of the room. Nothing but black. I was in the company of only myself. Nobody else. Whatever I had thought I heard did not exist.

It must have been those raccoons again, I reasoned, making a ruckus outside my window. How selfish of them. Didn't they know that I'm incredibly paranoid right now? I let out a heavy sigh, my body now relaxing, and walked over to the window to investigate.

Glancing outdoors, I saw nothing moving in the faint shrouded moonlight. I bent over the opened window, sticking my head outside with new-found confidence, but still nothing. But, as I brought my head back inside, the light seemed to hit in either the right or wrong angle as a minute detail caught my eye.

On the window sill were claw marks, long and deep, and alarmingly fresh. My body tensed again, my heart quickening. I shuddered, both from fear and the slight chill that came from the wind outdoors.

That was how I made my second realization.

When I went to bed, the window had been shut.

My mind began to seize as the terror rushed back into my consciousness. "...Wha-"

Then, as if waiting for this very moment, a loud burst of pain bloomed from the back of my skull. My vision turned red, then white, as a sudden ringing enveloped my ears. I gasped, I think, though I could no longer hear. All I knew was that the sharp, stinging sensation at the back of my head was leaking, warm and damp on my damaged flesh.

I did not realize that I fell until I could feel the cold hardwood pressing against me. No, me against it. Something was pinning me down to the floor, constricting my breathing greatly. My heart was beating loudly. I could feel, just barely, something on top of me, tearing at my clothes, then my flesh. New bursts of pain emerged from my back, and spilled onto the floor.

I tried calling out my brother's name, but all I managed was a pathetic little gurgle. I squirmed, trying desperately to get away, but my body would not listen.

As my vision slowly return, I noticed something foreign right in front of my face. A hand. A human hand, I thought, though clearly not my own. But the one thing that truly stood out were the edged, bloodied claws that stood in place of fingernails. That hand belonged to a monster.

I stared, eyes slowly closing again, still gurgling attempted screams, as the creature on top of me attacked my ribcage. I hardly noticed as another, stronger blow struck my head, and the world finally faded away from me.


	4. Screaming

Part Four: Screaming

I didn't die. In any other circumstance I doubt such a thing would need to be mentioned, since there is no way a dead man would be able to tell his story. But in light of recent events that, unfortunately, can only be described as supernatural phenomena, I feel like almost anything could be possible. Perhaps I _did _die, and this constant sense of impending doom is my own purgatory. Or maybe I'm just crazy, like everybody claims I am. It's possible, for sure, but I know it's not true. This is far too real.

Honestly, I wish I had died that night. But that would be selfish of me, wouldn't it? Quitting so early on in this twisted little game. At least now I hopefully have enough time to warn whoever will bother to read this. This may be my only legacy, I realize.

I cannot say for sure when I next woke up. For a long while I think I was awake, but my mind was too hazy to formulate any thoughts. I was just so, so tired. More tired than I'd ever been before, even when staying awake for days upon days like I do now. I just wanted to sleep forever, to drift in an endless sea on calm blankness. After what had happened the night before, I probably deserved the rest.

When I did wake enough to notice my surroundings, I found myself not in my brother's home, nor near the pearly gates of heaven. I was in the white, sterile room that I knew to be in a hospital as soon as my bleary eyes opened. My body ached, most notably around my sides, and my skull thudded in dull throbs. I blinked, trying to make sense of the situation.

I could not remember at all what had happened. I could remember what I _thought _had happened, but that couldn't have been true. Flashes from the previous night danced in my mind. The noise startling me awake. The sea of shadows. The curtains flowing from the opened window. The claw marks that decorated the window's plain trim.

The strike to the head. Being attacked from behind. The hand. Darkness.

But that was not real. It couldn't be! I was never one to have vivid dreams, and nightmares even less so, but there are exceptions to every rule. I was dreaming. I was dreaming. I was dreaming. But then why was I waking up in a hospital?

I heard, suddenly, a small beeping sound begin to quicken. My thought process immediately halted. I closed my eyes slowly, taking a slow, deep breath in through my nose, holding it, and then let it out through my mouth. I repeated the process several times, trying to calm my nerves. '_It's okay Mitch', _I thought to myself, '_you're fine. You're still alive, you're still breathing. Just wait for the doctor to come. It's probably nothing.'_

After repeating this thought many times, weaving the web more and more, I almost began to believe it. Almost.

I cannot imagine I was in there long before something else happened. I spent a short amount of time cycling through panic and calm, an endless circle accomplishing nothing, when there was a noise outside the door. Not a noise like what I thought I had heard the night before, but the sound of approaching footsteps. I breathed a small sigh of relief, hoping that my confusion would soon be mended.

But, as the unknown entities approached, the beeping slowly began to speed up once again.

The figures were speaking as they walked, and their tones were far from friendly. They sounded as if they were arguing, their volume louder than one would expect inside a hospital. I could not make out what was being said, but just by noting the location, it was easy to assume something awful.

It wasn't until the two figures stopped, seemingly right in front of my door, that I could begin to make out their words.

"...being serious right now? Do you really think...do _that_?" I recognized the voice to be Edwin's. He sounded frustrated. For a brief moment I thought back to when he was a teenager, and would start screaming at his video games – and me – whenever he died. But for some strange reason, I suspected that whatever he was mad about wasn't a game.

"...must have been some sort of wild animal. You saw the lacerations. What else could..." The second voice was unfamiliar to me, but distinctly male. A doctor, I assumed. But what did he mean by a wild animal? Was that what had landed me in that stark white room?

There was silence for a moment. A heavy sigh, I assumed, knowing my brother. "...too precise...animal...weren't any bites...organs." He spoke quietly, forcing me to strain my ears. It was the kind of quiet you hear inside the eye of a hurricane, and it was going to pass over at any moment.

"Are you suggesting...human did this?" The doctor said in a calm, professional voice. I held my breath, thinking back to that bloodied, clawed hand in front of my face. I was starting to realize that they knew less than I did.

Quiet. My heart pounded. Then, "Yes! Of course it was a human! They harvested his goddamn kidney for Christ's sake!"

I froze.

My... kidney...

I ignored the arguing, despite knowing I shouldn't have. I looked down at my body, which had been dressed in the cleanest available hospital clothes. My hands shook. I let them shake, only if they did as I told them. They complied. Carefully, so very carefully, as to not startle my anxious self, I moved the fabric away from my sides, exposing skin.

It took me no time at all to find it. A deep gash on my side, big enough to reach two hands into. It had been stitched up, though even I could tell that the work was sloppy and unprofessional. Gently I traced the puckered line of flesh with trembling fingers, my mind slowly chipping away. It was gone. My kidney was gone.

I... I don't think there's anyone that could convey that feeling. To just wake up one morning and find out that one of your organs had been taken. It's like a part of you was taken. Not just a tool used to make your body function, but part of your being. What was taken from you was quite literally your own blood, and you never think it can be stolen the same way a phone or a car can be. Possessions are one thing, but losing part of your own body, the one thing that truly belongs to you, is just disturbing.

I don't expect you to understand. I don't even want your sympathy. I just hope that, if you have not already experienced such a thing, that you will understand just part of what is at stake.

My eyes stung. I clenched them shut, keeping everything inside. Not now. Eventually, but not now.

Outside my door, the fighting continued, now louder than before. "...don't see what their motives would be," said the doctor, "The cuts on his back...clearly caused by claws. You know how much it resembles an animal attack, Edwin."

My eyes never left the rough stitch work as my brother loudly replied, "But that doesn't make any sense! Why would an animal just-"

"Look," the doctor replied in a stern, cold voice that even made my trembling hands freeze in place. He held the voice of every disappointed father, every angry teacher, and every overworked employer. "I don't know what... tell you. Those wounds couldn't possibly... caused by a human. Either it was... animal, or by Eyeless Jack. Take your pick." And then, the distinct sound of heavy footsteps storming away. After that, there was nothing but the suffocating sound of silence to fill the gaping void. I am without a doubt convinced that the entire world stopped breathing at that moment. The silence was louder than any words.

My kidney was missing. They didn't know why. My body was covered in clawed gashes, yet all that was missing as far as I knew was the one organ. A prize far too specific for any animal's needs, yet taken in a way that no humane person would ever consider. A dull ache resonated in my head, my brain becoming overloaded with all the heavy information it was processing.

And what's an Eyeless Jack?

God, I wish I never found out. I wish I never had to know. I wish my story, my sick twisted little story, could have ended right there. I could have moved on. Things would have resumed as normal, me living my sickeningly simple life from then on minus one measly organ. I wouldn't be sitting here in this hellish tomb, all doors and windows hastily barricaded by my poor handiwork, rightfully starting at every minor noise I hear. Just waiting for my life to end.

As my perception of reality started to solidify once again, I noticed the silence being broken as the plain door finally swung open. Edwin walked in, his face visibly pissed off. His eyes held a steady glare at something I suspected was not physical, his mind off in the distance. Probably still following that doctor, wherever he went.

He did not at all acknowledge me at all, instead choosing to stare off into space as steam escaped his nostrils. I fidgeted a little, unsure what I was meant to say or do. Finally, I decided to just speak up.

"Hey," I said weakly. My voice sounded strange, a bit raspier than compared to my usual smooth voice, making me sound like I had just woken up from a long, deep sleep. Which I suppose was true, though after what I had heard, the thought of sleep was the last thing on my mind. My mind was racing, not willing to rest ever again as long as unknown danger was still lurking behind every corner.

Edwin's eyes then widened, his expression changing dramatically. "Mitch?" he said, shocked, as if wondering if I was actually real or just an apparition. Though his face was still red, part of the anger he held onto seemed to drain away as it was replaced by shock.

Although it was not truly genuine, I gifted him a small smile to let him believe I was okay. Until that moment, I never really considered how worried my brother must have been. He was probably the one that found me, just lying on the ground covered in my own blood, an experience I would not want to behold myself.

As soon as he got over his initial surprise, he smiled back at me brightly. "Hey bro! How are you feeling?" he asked as sincerely as possible. I could tell that he was putting on his best act possible, but just by looking at the slight slant of his eyes it was clear he was still fuming internally. I left it unaddressed.

I sighed, still smiling softly. "Like shit," I admitted. No use lying to him, especially since he already knew the answer. He was a doctor, after all, and knew exactly what was wrong with me.

He nodded, his smile dropping slightly. "I see..." he trailed off, his thoughts still lingering elsewhere. His eyes scanned me, gaze resting for a moment on my torso. Probably where my kidney used to be, if I were to assume anything. The area had been covered back up, though the image of the puckered slice of skin never left my mind. I doubt it ever will. Perhaps it would, someday, if I'd a chance to live that long.

Then, Edwin stood up straight, collecting himself. "Well, um, I have good news and bad news..." he was clearly trying to sound professional, like a doctor would to his patients, but the 'um' completely ruined it. I listened closely, feigning complete ignorance.

"The good news is that you're going to be fine. No long term issues, besides maybe a few scars, and some stubborn stains on your bedsheets." He chuckled a bit at the last comment, though the laughter was clearly faked. I didn't laugh with him. I did not feel much like humour at that moment. Maybe I should have. Maybe he shouldn't have tried. Either way, the room sell silent, and everything suddenly felt very, very awkward.

"Um," Edwin stumbled, already needing to collect himself once again, and failing completely. "The... the bad news is that your, um, kidney... it's gone. Some, uh, _thing _took it." He shuffled uncomfortably, his composure completely lost. He looked into my eyes, waiting for my reaction.

I'm not sure what I was supposed to do. Cry, maybe? I certainly felt like doing it, but I wasn't going to in front of my brother. Maybe I was supposed to yell or scream or completely lose my mind. Maybe I should've been in denial, or immediately looked at the scar. But I had already done that, and I certainly didn't want that gash invading my vision any more. Maybe I was supposed to ask what had happened, but I already knew that they weren't sure. I couldn't quite tell how I felt. Sad? Angry? Scared? Hopeless? Maybe somewhere, in some other language, there is a word that means all of those words mixed together. But until I learn that word, all I can say is that I felt hollow. Like there was a hole inside me, deep inside my stomach. And in my chest, I thought I might choke on something I could not name. And I was trembling again, more than ever before.

Finally, I muttered "Okay," and clenched my eyes shut. I took in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

Because inside, I was screaming.


End file.
